Lone Star Mountain i'm coming ladies.

It had only been a few days, but the fire-wolf felt stiffled within the peaceful willows. In the old courts, while overpopulated, there was plenty of rivarlies to go around, and quite a few of fights to commend to. It seemed hard to blow off any steam besides running and patrolling, but that wasn't enough for Orlaith. She needed a real challenge.

The guard could hear them in the dead of night, the clashing against just like the stag's, but she knew they could not be here. The rams. Bighorn sheep, similar to the antlered of the forests, but their horns curved and battled each other via their head. At night the sound could be heard of their ferocity, and fueled her thirst for a fight. She admired them, the deers of the mountains.

"I'm coming for you."

Orlaith prawled up the mountains, a search for a battle.